[Editor's Note: Thanks, JSun for taking time to write some postgame commentary that is more entertaining than it sounds like the game was.]
Why did I leave the house?
If I wanted to get depressed, I would've stayed home and tried to balance my checkbook. I could've stayed home and drank cheaper, non-flat beer. The best part of my night at the arena was at halftime when the keg went dry and foam exploded all over my brother and the guy behind the concessions stand. It was funny because it wasn't me, but nothing went right. To top it all off, the Hawks beat the Mavs.
What was the score? It wasn't even that close.
The night started out well enough. My brother and I got downtown about 6:15 and enjoyed a Guinness at Seamus McCaffrey's - it's a nice pub and they know how to pour a Guinness. The fish fry is a pretty good meal because the fish they use are light on the breading. It's nice to get some fish with your deep-fried bread. I didn't have the fish tonight, but I highly recommend it.
That Guinness was the highlight of my night.
I was confused on some of the calls, too. The "journalists" and TV commentators have been saying the NBA is going back to the old "rule of verticality" - if the defender jumps straight up and the offensive player bangs into him, it's not a foul on the defender. Amare got called for two of those "fouls."
Not that it matters. The Lakers shot 57% and the Suns shot 42%. The Suns also shot 68% from the line. Even worse, Derek Fisher only seemed to hit shots when the Suns defenders were smothering him; he missed the wide-open jumpers. Worse yet, Vlad the Snowboarder and some guy named Sasha were draining their shots.
The only good defense of the night came on defending Fisher and he only hit the contested shots. Damned if you do and damned if you don't, I suppose. I can't remember how many times they doubled Walton or Turiaf (aka, "the Predator") and left Bryant open. I hope that wasn't part of game plan. Also, Walton schooled Trix at least three times. That should've been embarrassing.
Offensively, they were even worse. On the "plus" side a lot of shots rimmed out, so you've got to be hopeful that those shots are usually going to fall. On the much larger negative side, I want an apology. And I want it to be signed by Raja Bell and whoever decided it was a good idea to run plays for him in the third period. He's shooting something like 1 for 20 and they're running back screens and curls for him.
I think my favorite play, though, was when DJ threw up an alley-oop that hit the top corner of the backboard. If you're going to miss that badly, I suppose you might as well create a long rebound so that the trailers have a chance to catch it.
The one 3 that Hill chucked looked awful. He's got a different stroke for threes than he does for his 18-footers. I'm not sure why, but it seems he doesn't have (or doesn't think he has) the strength to keep his form from that distance. I'm still hopeful he can develop that shot by mid-season.
On a much more depressing note, I'm not at all comfortable with my new season tickets. A couple of rows down, three guys were swearing something awful. I'm taking my 4 year old boy to the Cavs game and he really doesn't need to learn those words so early in life. When someone pointed that out to him, even more swears came out. Someone asked him to sit down and he went into a Homer-esque tirade about how buying a ticket gives him the right to be disgusting. He started to pick a fight with someone else across the aisle.
He yelled at me for being rude when I asked him to sit down; so I responded, "I'm sorry. Please sit down." That shut him up for a while because it confused him.
Security eventually took him away. That guy was rip-roaring drunk by 8:30. Is he a drywall contractor or something? (I know a few drywall contractors and most of them really like their beer, but they are all more well-behaved from this guy).
The other season ticket holders and I figured that he probably only bought this one ticket (that's what we're hoping, anyway) because he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who can hold down a job and afford season tickets.
After that, my brother saw a guy puking in the bathroom. We're not sure if it was the beer or the game.
We also saw a few other falling-down drunks. We've come to the conclusion that the home opener must be the equivalent of the New Year's "amateur night." Next year I might just stay away.
All around, I should've stayed home.